Mrs. Poe

by Lynn Cullen

“If by a soul one means the creature who lives within each of us, a creature born loving, born joyful, but who with each worldly blow shrinks more deeply into its shell until at last, the poor desiccated thing is unrecognizable even to its own self, yes. I do.”

“Our soul is as much a part of us as our hands or our voice,” he said quietly, “yet we are terrified to acknowledge it. Why is that?”

is as if producing a creative work tears a piece from your soul. When it is ripped completely free of you, the wound must bleed for a while. How similar it is to letting go of a dream, your hope, or your heart’s desire. You must open up and let it drain.

“Pay attention to fate, Mrs. Osgood. It will always have the last word.”

“How quickly the world changes, yet we are so busy trying to live that we don’t notice it.”

“She’s like a suit of clothes that no longer fits. It pinches and inhibits and makes me look foolish.”

Americans are being poisoned, all in the name of profit, producing a weak-minded race of people who are given to lust and desire.”

“Tell me,” said Miss Fuller, “who is behind a great woman?” She looked around our circle, then stopped

The next post continues the line of thought. And it is so true.

me. “That’s right. No one. She has to get there by herself.”

You ought to be aware that a creature gave up its life for you.”

“I’m sorry, but they do die for you, try to ignore it all you want. We are all murderers.”

“Madness,” he said quietly, “is as a drop of ink in water. It sends sly tendrils from the afflicted person into everyone around until all are shaded in black. Soon one does not know who is mad and who is not.”

Same could be said for addiction as well.

Why are we doomed to crave most that which we cannot have?

had come to realize that you must do what you must for your children, even if it called for the sacrifice of your very soul.

Odd how a brain cannot be goaded into creativity without a soul to